


Takes All Sorts

by Inclination



Category: DCU (Comics), Smallville
Genre: Angst, Gen, Goofiness, M/M, Multi, Socks, misc batfam, this is very much a mixed bag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-26 14:38:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6243583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inclination/pseuds/Inclination
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Misc. drabbles prompted by my twitter followers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Takes All Sorts

**Brutim + Socks**

“Timbo,” Jason said, “Why the fuck are your socks twice the size of your feet?”

Tim paused, the aforementioned (and indeed, comically large) socks in hand. He’d overslept and come down to the cave in a rush, picking up the first pair of socks he’d seen off of Bruce’s bedroom floor. He’d belatedly noticed as he tripped over his own feet for the third time coming down the stairs, the socks were much too large to be his own.

As Tim opened his mouth, the cogs of his mind working overtime to try and think of a way to best explain to Jason that Batman was fucking him regularly, and indeed, had been for some time now, Bruce walked behind him, suited up but cowl off, and gave him a hearty slap on the ass. Tim could only describe the noise he heard himself make as ‘undignified’.

“Well,” said Jason, “That explained far more than I ever wanted to know. I’m going to leave now and punch bad guys until I can forget this conversation ever happened. Goodbye.”

 

**DickTiger + Food/All-You-Can-Eat**

They ducked into a small, All-You-Can Eat buffet restaurant to wait. The food in the place looked questionable at best, but Tiger knew their pursuers would never expect the two of them to sit down for dinner in the middle of a chase, and the restaurant was quiet enough to be as good a place as any to discreetly get in touch with Spyral and request back-up.

Grayson sat opposite him, happily shovelling some unidentified, deep-fried food into his mouth. Tiger had never known anyone eat so much and get remain so lean; he supposed it was the amount of constant, under-the-surface energy Grayson emitted. The kid was, to put it politely, ‘full of beans’, and to put it not-so politely, a pain in the ass. But still – a pain in the ass Tiger had grown uncommonly fond of.

“I’m going to get into contact with HQ,” Tiger murmured, and made his way to the men’s restroom. The restroom door had barely had time to close behind him, before it was opening again, to reveal Grayson had followed him.

Tiger’s stomach clenched pleasurably; he knew that look – that small, half-smile and that dangerous light in his eyes that meant Grayson had come up with a plan that was brilliant and dangerous in equal measures.

“So the thing is,” Grayson purred, “This buffet promised all-you-can-eat, but the thing I’m _really_ hungry for isn’t on the menu.”

And with that, Dick got on his knees.

**Brutim + Labyrinth**

He used to dream of Robin.

He used to dream that the three of them – (himself and dick grayson and jason todd, those names that he held in his heart, that filled his chest with warm, tight light) – would swoop through the rooftops of Gotham in arcs of red, green and gold light, with the sounds of carefree laughter trailing behind them.

He doesn’t dream of Robin anymore.

His life has changed so much since those days. Now Batman knows that he knows the secret, now that his mother is dead, now that he’s the only Robin left because Dick walked away and Jason is gone forever.

Instead, when he dreams, he walks through a dark labyrinth. He knows that Batman is out there somewhere, if he could only find him, but all he can seem to find are dead ends and walls that change whenever he turns around, and always, the darkness that presses in ever closer. Even the red, gold and green of his costume don’t seem to shine as brightly as they used to.

Now, in his dreams, Tim wanders a dark labyrinth, and wonders if Batman is the goal waiting at the centre of the maze, or if he’s the monster pursuing him there.

 

**Brudick + Never**

Dick is all too familiar with wanting things you can never have.

His whole adolescence felt like a great, big ball of _hurt_ ; a deep and constant sense of yearning - _(for family, for affection, for love)_ \- gnawing away at his insides until he felt constantly raw and bruised and _tired_.

But raw and bruised and tired was no good for being Robin, no help at all to Batman, and so Dick had pulled on the front of bright, happy boy like he pulled on the red, green and gold of his uniform. Playing pretend was easy – you just have to keep on the mask until the curtains go down and the audience go home. Nothing that he wasn’t raised to do; nothing that wasn’t in his blood.

Sometimes Dick lay in bed at night and imagined telling Bruce everything, imagined saying, _Batman needs a Robin, but I need **you** Bruce_ , imagined kissing Bruce’s strong, stubbled jaw line, imagined laying his head against that powerful chest and listening to the steady, reassuring beat of Bruce’s heart.

Yes, Dick is all too familiar with wanting things you can never have.

 

**Brujay + Blood**

He hates it when any of the boys bleed, but there’s something about Jason’s blood in particular that turns his stomach.

It’s because Bruce knows he’s seen far too much of Jason’s blood, more than enough to last a lifetime; seen it in his dreams, seen it on his hands which will never be clean no matter how many times he washes them, seen it staining the ragdoll corpse of his best friend, his good soldier, his strong right hand.

That’s why Bruce takes his time now, running his hands over Jason’s bare back as the boy moans and shudders beneath him. Bruce carefully maps out the scars that cover Jason’s body, some so old that even the pit didn’t heal them, some still raw and new. Bruce leans down to kiss a path along Jason’s spine, and then drags his teeth gently over a half-healed bruise on Jason’s back.

Jason bucks his hips and lets out a noise which is half hiss of pain, half moan of pleasure, and Bruce smiles against Jason’s skin. He might never be able to make the memories of Jason’s blood go away, but that doesn’t mean he can’t make some new memories to go with them.

 

**Guykyle + Crop tops**

Kyle’s never letting Guy wash the clothes again.

They’ve been on Oa for less than two weeks, and Guy has single handed-ly managed to destroy almost every piece of clothing that Kyle brought with him from Earth. He’s going to have to wear ring-construct clothing until he has the time to make the long journey back to sector 2814 – which, judging by the jam-packed schedule Salaak had him working on, was going to be at least a couple of months.

“You told me you knew how to use this washing machine,” Kyle grumbles, holding up what had once been a pair of his socks, but was now more appropriately sized for doll’s clothes.

“Eh, I had the ring translate the instructions,” calls Guy from the bedroom.

“The trick would have been to read them,” Kyle mutters under his breath.

“Who’s got time for that? Anyway, it ain’t all bad. This is salvageable.”

Guy steps out of the bedroom wearing what had once been a baggy t-shirt on him. However, the sleeves, which had once fallen to Guy’s elbows, now end at the top of Guy’s arms, accentuating the curve of his biceps, and the shirt now barely reaches Guy’s waist.

“Crop tops are in fashion, right?” Guy asks.

Kyle, however, is much too busy staring at the trail of thick, red curls that starts just below Guy’s belly-button and leads downwards, until it disappears underneath the waist-band of his jeans.

Maybe Kyle’ll let Guy wash the underwear next.

 

**Jaydick + Stud**

Jason never should have agreed to this.

The Titans (old and new) were throwing a 60s themed party, and Dick had insisted on dragging him along, despite Jay’s protests that he’d been a Titan for less than five minutes. (They’d never even put a statue of him up in the Hall. Not that he was bitter about that still. He was a mature and grown up person and he didn’t hold grudges. Ever.)

Jason could admit that it had been fun letting Steph mess around with his hair, and the clothes weren’t that much different from what he’d normally wear (thank fuck for leather jackets) and-

Holy shit.

Dick walked into the main hallway of the mansion where Jason had been waiting for him, and Jason promptly lost his train of thought several times over. Dick was wearing a skin-tight V-neck shirt, and leather pants so tight it would be a miracle if there was still blood circulating below his waist.

Fuck, Jason thought, fuck, fuck fuck. His _ass_.

Dick sauntered towards Jason with a smirk that could only be described as lascivious, and _shit_ , he was definitely wearing lipgloss.

Dick stopped inches away from Jason, grinning like the cat who’d got the cream, and leant in on tiptoes to whisper, his hot breath tickling Jay’s ear.

“Tell me about it, stud.”

 

**JayRoy + Jealousy**

Jason was barely through the door before Roy was pulling his clothes off.

They’d been at a local bar (nothing new), flirting with a group of girls (nothing new), until one of them – a pretty blonde – had leaned in to kiss Jason. He’d instinctively pulled away, and her lips had grazed his cheek instead, leaving a smear of reddish-pink lipstick behind. Roy’s eyes had immediately darkened and the two of them swiftly made their apologies and left.

Roy kissed him with a vicious possessiveness, the force of the kiss driving Jason back towards the dark bathroom. Roy reached out and scrabbled for the bathroom light, never once stopping the barrage of kisses against Jason’s mouth, cheeks, jaw and neck.

“Roy- I-“ Jason started, but Roy deftly undid Jason’s buckle, let Jay’s pants and underwear fall to the floor, and pushed him backwards into the shower.

Jason took a minute to catch his breath as Roy turned the faucet on, the hot water cascading over Jay’s now-naked body. Roy, too, paused for a moment, giving Jason a hungry look up and down before quickly and efficiently stripping himself.

“Roy,” Jason said again quietly, as Roy stepped into the shower to join him, but Roy simply kissed the rest of the words out of Jason’s mouth, before moving to nuzzle his nose against Jason’s cheek, and then lick the patch of skin where the lipstick had been smeared earlier.

“Mine,” Roy practically growled, and Jason gave a low moan, as Roy thrust hard against his hip, and Jason’s own cock came into contact with the warm skin and fine trail of red hairs on Roy’s stomach.

“Mine,” Roy said again, punctuating his claim with another thrust, and Jason wrapped his arms around Roy’s neck, threw his head back, and moaned.

 

 

**DickDami + Satisfaction**

Grayson was the first person he ever remembered really wanting to _impress_.

Of course, there was his mother, and the other members of the League of Assassins, and his various teachers as he grew up, but that wasn’t trying to impress so much as meeting their (admittedly, extremely high) expectations.

Sometimes he wondered if his life would have been different if his father hadn’t ‘died’ (it made Damian want to snort just thinking about it) so soon after Damian had come into his life. But the fact of the matter was, his father had died, and Damian had ended up playing Robin alongside a very different kind of Batman.

A Batman who taught his lessons with a smile, a Batman who knew what it was like to be Robin, a Batman who was unshakeably and bone-achingly _kind_. (Damian had always hated kind people. They gave everything away with no sense of self-preservation. What kind of person _does_ that?)

And yet. And yet, every time Grayson gave him that face-splitting grin, or ruffled his hair, or kissed him on the temple before he went to bed, Damian couldn’t suppress the warm feeling that ballooned in his chest. To know Grayson was proud of him – _that_ was satisfaction.

 

**Clex + Morning**

Clark thinks he loves Lex most in the mornings.

It’s habit for Clark to rise with the sun; even with his super speed and strength, he’s still doing the job of three or four men on the farm, and there’s always more work to be done. Lex, however, rarely feels the need to rise before lunchtime at weekends – the side effect of rarely sleeping more than five hours a night during the week, Clark’s sure.

Clark doesn’t mind though; he enjoys the quiet of these mornings, and getting to watch Lex whilst the other man is unaware of his scrutiny. Clark’s learned that Lex sleeps on his left side when he’s sleeping peacefully, on his right side when he’s stressed, and on his back when he’s having a nightmare. Currently, Lex is on his left slide, slightly curled in on himself, with his hand resting next to his head, palm up and slightly open. Clark carefully traces the line that cuts its way through Lex’s palm, admiring how soft his hands are.

Lex frowns momentarily, and then opens his eyes, obviously awakened by the tickling sensation on his palm. However, as soon as he sees Clark, Lex visibly relaxes, his frown softening into a fond smile.

Yes, Clark definitely loves Lex most in the mornings.

 

**Guykyle + Romantic Dinner**

It had been Kyle’s turn to plan date night.

Normally when it was Guy’s turn, he got them reservations at a nice restaurant or tickets to see a show. He’d be the first to admit that he sucked at romance, but Kyle’d assured him that the two of them spending time together was much more important than grand romantic gestures. However, despite the reassurances, that never stopped Kyle from planning extravagant dates that were both thoughtful and creative. Maybe the kid just had more time on his hands, what with being an art student, Guy figured. Or maybe Guy just really did suck at romantic stuff.

Kyle had planned a fancy three-course meal, all home cooked and locally sourced, and they’d just sat down to their starters when an alert from the Justice League came through. Alien invasion or some shit, and they were needed ASAP – typical.

The battle was hard-fought, but over fairly swiftly, and by the time Batman dismissed them at the end of the evening, they were both exhausted. They returned to a flat filled with the acrid smell of burning.

“Oh, shit, I left the oven on,” Kyle gasped.

Thankfully, the oven had only been on low, and the worst damage done was the lingering smell – and the crusty ashes of Kyle’s carefully prepared meal at the bottom of the tray.

Kyle pouted and cursed world-endangering disasters, and Guys sighed, slung an arm over his shoulders and called for a Chinese. To escape the smell in their flat, they ended up eating their take-out on the roof of their apartment building, under the stars. It was the best date night they’d had in a long time.

 

 

**Jaydick + Meeting**

It had become customary for the Batkids to pull faces at each other behinds Bruce’s back during family meetings.

It had started with Steph attempting to make Cass giggle during one of Bruce’s long and somewhat monotonous speeches (Cass, coincidentally, was the queen of staying completely blank no matter how funny she found the situation) and the tradition had escalated from there.

Tim was brilliant at doing silent but deadly accurate impressions of people’s facial expressions and body language; Dick once snuck in a whoopee cushion and proceeded to ask everyone who’d had beans for lunch and blamed the grotesque faces he was pulling on the ‘smell’ whenever Bruce caught him.

The moment that stuck in everyone’s mind, however, was when Jason has casually leaned over and planted a kiss directly on Dick’s mouth behind Bruce’s back. Steph had let out a small gasp, Tim made a strange choking noise, Cass’ mouth fell open, and even Damian (who usually acted as if the entire show were beneath him) couldn’t stop his eyes from widening in shock.

By the time Bruce turned back around, Dick had actually moved to straddle Jay’s lap, and the two seemed rather too distracted to notice any of the reactions of the people who surrounded them.

“...Right,” Bruce said, “Maybe we ought to postpone the rest of this meeting until a later date. All in fav-“

“Aye,” chorused the rest of the kids, and the whole family, bar Dick and Jason, swiftly exited the room.

**Clark/Bruce + Batcave**

Clark flew through the upper levels of the atmosphere.

He loved it up here – the blue seemed to stretch on endlessly, broken only by the gentle wisps of cloud. He could practically feel the sun’s rays soaking into his skin, strengthening him.

It was at times like this that Clark wished he could bring Bruce up here – thinking of him, deep in his dark cave, his face illuminated only by the artificial light of computer screens made Clark’s heart clench in uncomfortable ways. Even more so, when Clark thought of young Dick down there in that cave with him.

Clark wished he could bring Bruce up here, wished that he could smooth away the crease in between Bruce’s eyebrows that seemed to be a permanent feature these days.

He wished he could bring Bruce into the sun.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much to all my twitter followers who sent me prompts!! I haven't written any fic in a few years and all of your feedback was so kind!
> 
> Apologies for any mistakes, this is unbeta'd.
> 
> Find me on twitter @LEXLUTH0RS


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